Jail Reflections: Race

Recreating (and advancing) pk’s censored domains: Macroinformation.org & Knatz.com / Teaching / Society / Social Order / Hierarchy versus Conviviality / Jail /

Information is made of difference. Rhetoric is made of contrasts. Existence breeds from opposites. Sometimes “opposites” are actually complements: male and female.

Evolution depends on mortality. Death stirs the soup. Thanatos lurks in every aspect of Eros. (And versa visa.)

Male and female respond to their differences: if not too different. Darwin explained how sexual selection breeds racial differences. One grouping becomes two, then three, then many. The story of the Tower of Babel is symbolically profound. If we all have button noses and along comes someone with an aquiline nose, maybe we’ll worship them, maybe we’ll crucify them. Deciding to get along is not normally the first decision made.

Christianity helps us avoid killing everybody before we can breed, cooperate, have a society; but then we’re stuck with crowds, traffic … n-. [Bowdlerizing K., 2016 08 01, I censor an offensive word and substitute something more obscene: euphemism!]

As I emphasize elsewhere, or should I say passim, all-where, a “n-” is anyone the group doesn’t accept based on some undigested perception: he has an aquiline nose, he has a button nose, he has a broad nose, he has a hook nose, a big nose … We accept and we also reject by labels, the labels typically undigested, typically inappropriate.

Mislabeling as an epidemic is a sure sign that nature has had enough of us and we’re on our way out: unless we modify more than one aspect of our behavior: snap labeling, for example.

Labels are useful, but subject to disease.

I hate racism. I’ve spent my life resisting racism. I get in trouble on all sides by resisting crowds. The society is forever modifying its racism, but we are a profoundly racist society: and in no way is damage more apparent than in jail.

Jail is not a place to put any group on its best behavior.

I heard more than one inmate in jail say that they had never hated n-s until they were in jail: and even I sympathized at least in part with what I took them to mean. Jail is not a place to put any group on its best behavior. Damaged groups will show their damage conspicuously in jail.

I intend to let this module grow over time. Parts of it may fester. It’s about disease.

I’ll tell lots and lots of racial jail stories here, as I find time. Black / white will be the principal, but not the only, qualifier.


Majority … Political


I told how I was received in my first ‘hood at Jesup, ‘hood here signaling a “black” character. I’ve mentioned how jail exaggerates some of the worst aspects of modern life: 10% of the society moves every other year; in jail the moves are more frequent.

The slave trade took people from their homes and moved them to other continents. Families were broken up. New families formed, they’d be broken again: by slave owners trying to keep their own families together, in profit, leisure, luxury.

I’m not sure how capable cavemen would have been in knowing each other. Maybe it’s only in civilization that we can “know” a Shakespeare, and thanks to a Shakespeare, then know a Hamlet. Yet I don’t doubt that the caveman knew who could knapp flint and who was reliable at tending the fire better than the people packed off to Sunday School here, and off to boarding school there, and then off to college, and then off to the army …

One jail shoved me with a bunch of guys I would not likely have associated with on my own, then shoved me with a different bunch of guys, then on to another jail, and shove, shove, shove: always with a different bunch of undesirables.

I myself may have been an undesirable at home. I didn’t fit even in my family. But prior to my arrest I’d at least found places where I could function, rest, find a little peace on my own.

At Jesus I was shoved into a cell where the local life near instantly made it apparent to me that this was a ‘hood. That is to say: despite the jailors, this neighborhood was “black.” Black culture ruled. I would accept black rule. Actually, I would make my white self invisible or I would get out.

Life is full of irony, much of it unperceived, under-appreciated. Any individual has his private ironies. pk is a gourmet of irony, a master.

pk was arrested because pk’s ironies are rejected by the hysterically self-deluded-deluding culture. I write satire, I live satire; “you” don’t want it, won’t acknowledge it … “educate” others to be blind to it.

My new hood didn’t know pk’s long established reputation as a “n- lover.” I was just instantly rejected as an oh-fay. No account was taken of my actual history. Irony. Pisses me of.

But then pk was just discovering a new pk, a jailed pk: where pk ALSO couldn’t stand “the n-s”.

Unlike the standard racist I could see how they got that way, and sympathize; but trapped with it, I too hated certain well-known patterns.

Ah, but I was also trapped with other cultural dominances, and hated them too. In Miami it was the Cubans who ruled and abused 7W. if the Cubans ever shut up, blacks were ready, and loud, to take over. But pk had hated white dominance: where white dominance was imperfectly Christian, imperfectly liberal, democratic … And as pk has matured, pk has found ever more things to hate and be uncomfortable with.

I will say though: I can make myself comfortable in more hostile circumstances than most: I made myself comfortable in jail!

Torture is finding ways to make a victim uncomfortable faster than that person’s adaptability can make himself comfortable.
Anyone can be tortured.

The worst torture, for me, short of intense torture by a genius sadist, is the torture of being trapped among morons who don’t know that they’re torturing you!


As I’ve said elsewhere the concept of race started off as a semi-scientific idea. Science and culture are not the same thing, neither are they altogether separable. Race gradually, then rapidly, degenerated into nothing more than a hammer with which kleptocrat racists could bludgeon their victims: n-, kike, chink … In some respects they all have only one meaning: we’re members of the owners club; you’re not. We tell you what to do; you obey.

The dominant culture in America suffers from a delusion that time is progressive, that God is structuring things vertically. Or, if evolution is true, then evolution is doing the same thing God used to do: structuring life so that a particular culture group will own all the resources, propagate its genes, tell others what to do, live in luxury … We tend to think that human reason and reason are the same thing, that human intelligence and intelligence have little area not in common, that in the past bad rulers may have ruled, but now that we’re ruling, or almost ruling, good has finally triumphed.

All sorts of consequences flow from this: n-s deserve to be in jail, geniuses aren’t geniuses unless they agree with the powers leading us, driving us, into blind alleys …

I may fill in more of that latter: right now I head straight for an example of having directly to do with both jail and race.

My first couple of cellies in FDC MIAMI, 7W, were ethnically diverse (though all were non-English speaking) and most “whites” would have dismissed them all as “black.”

The first was tall, skinny, Caribbean … and obsessed on a strange mixture of Islam and Roman Catholicism. I suspect that his non-comprehension of English was more pretense than real. I was rescued from him by a Cuban who put me under his loud, aggressive wing to smother me. I escaped to a cell on a pretext of getting a lower bunk, but the inhabitant grabbed the lower bunk and wouldn’t give it up: Centeno. I’m not sure how deliberate was his non-communication in English. I am confident that he was profoundly stupid.

Anyway, I brush my teeth. I spit. I rinse, I spit. Centeno looks fresh black-hatred at me.

I notice that he brushes his teeth but stands over the toilet, and spits there. He never spits into the sink.

Subsequently I notice many another jailbird, not all Hispanic, but all “black,” spitting into the toilet: and ordering others to do so: like martinets.

Ed, 7W’s jailhouse lawyer, asks me, “Have you been forbidden to spit into the sink?”
“Yes,” I answer. “What’s that about?”
“Many of the blacks come from hovels with only one sink: the kitchen sink. There is no bathroom sink, there may be no bathroom. Food is prepared using the kitchen sink. So the children are raised to spit outside if there is no inside toilet; into the toilet if there is one.

Evolution doesn’t seem to have a particular direction. Teillard de Chardin hoped for an “Omega Point”: a cosmology in which evolution operated but there were still the familiar feudal and monotheistic directions: up, forward …

History is full of instances of a culture developing, attained a high degree of refinement, then being swept over by a more primitive culture: the Chou replace the Shang in ancient China, after the Civil War in the United States, carpetbaggers rose while plantation owners receded. Instead of “all” of the power, “whites” merely had almost-all of the power. …

Majority … Political

And it’s changed since then, but not much. In normal America the illiterate Hispanic drug dealer would never tell the Wall Street lawyer or the New England English Professor what to do.

British imperialists talked about their “white man’s burden.” Americans talked about their Manifest Destiny. That meant that the spic was there only to provide cheap labor. The spic, the n-, should not speak unless spoken to. And then their words should be, “Yes, Sir,” said, you notice, in English!

But in jail a very different American ideal rules: the majority rules. The BoP sets the official rules: but don’t overlook the actual on site power of the numerical majority. Once the dorm is full of Cubans, the BoP doesn’t bother to try to enforce any Speak English rule. Once Miami is so full of Cubans and Mexicans that only Cubans or Mexicans or otherwise-unemployable blacks will take the FedBoP’s silly prison jobs. Soon the representatives of the FedBoP in Miami speak no more English than do the Cuban thugs.

New jails are built to arrest more n-s. Everyone knows that. But a new truth is less familiar, however obvious. In the hysteria following 9/11/1 cops and feds are arresting and convicting all sorts of people: as they do in war time, and cold war time, and any time of kleptocratic hysteria.

The prisoners I saw were disproportionately Hispanic in Florida, and disproportionately black everywhere. But not only was I a political prisoner, arrested for what I said, what I wrote, not for anything I “did,” I saw other political prisoners galore.

I got to hear more personal stories in Jesup than I’d heard in Miami. (At Jesup we’d walk the track outside, and often talk.) I met only one other political prisoner who’d been arrested for a book he’d written (jailing him prevented him from publishing a second book). But I met many other kinds of political prisoner: Jesup seemed to be filled with FBI informants the FBI had decided to turn against: federal hit men, federal drug dealers, drug farmers … The fed agencies sued them, protected them, made them rich, then abandoned them, turned on them, locked them up and threw away the key …

Notice one implication here: those guys who told me such stories could of course have been lying. We all lie. But I don’t buy that it was all lies. (What’s all lies is what you hear outside: in the papers, in the universities …) What I find remarkable is that so many federal victims were left alive in the prisons. The FedBoP didn’t seem to care what we said once we were “safe” in jail.

Maybe they were right. Not only do citizens outside stand with their thumb in their ass while their saviors are crucified, one after another; convicts stand unprotesting no matter what they hear inside.

2016 08 01 It’s so funny for me to be censoring K., substituting one kind of obscenity for another. I’m reminded of the time the students at the college where I was teaching, 1968 or so, passed around freedom of speech diatribes filled with syncopeted obscenities, s- for shit, etc. One obscene word was not blanked out: fellatio. They didn’t know what it meant!

Hierarchy vs. Conviviality Stories


About pk

Seems to me that some modicum of honesty is requisite to intelligence. If we look in the mirror and see not kleptocrats but Christians, we’re still in the same old trouble.
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